


Merry Christmas, Liz Lemon

by liltrekker (sev313)



Category: 30 Rock
Genre: F/M, Holiday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-19
Updated: 2009-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-04 15:15:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sev313/pseuds/liltrekker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Liz Lemon, Christmas used to be the most stressful time of the year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merry Christmas, Liz Lemon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sloppycronkite (warriorpoet)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=sloppycronkite+%28warriorpoet%29).



> All characters belong to NBCU, I'm just borrowing.

“What, again?!” Liz shrieked.

“What happened?” Pete had just walked into her office, bearing a full box of red and green-sprinkled doughnuts.

“Dammit, Jenna’s locked herself in her dressing room again, and Tracey locked himself in with her.  They’re complaining about the Christmas special again.  I thought we fixed that!”

“Whavhever,” Pete said, mouth full of doughnut.  “Tell then you’ll tell the papers that they’re sleeping together.  Jenna’ll be out in five seconds, tops.”

Liz looked up from her papers.  “Sometimes, Pete Hornburger, you’re brilliant!”  She glanced at the doughnuts.  “Do those have chocolate inside?”

 

*****

 For Liz Lemon, Christmas used to be the most stressful time of the year.  Her mother, constantly badgering her about her non-existent boyfriend.  Her friends, showing off their hew husbands and houses and children.  Jack, hassling her about her recalcitrant cast members (don’t even mention Jenna and Tracey themselves.)  However, this year, everything looked like it was going to turn out all right—the Christmas special was a surprising success, Kenneth had regained his faith and was cheerily passing out candy canes (a sweet sign of Jesus!), and Jack was over the moon from her present.  It was Christmas Eve and there was nothing left to do but pack and go home to three large boxes of Chinese food and some old movies, a veritable paradise.  “Bye, everyone!” Liz said cheerily to her colleagues and stepped out into the night.

Her happiness and confidence melted away, however, when she stepped through her front door.  Piles of clothes still lay strewn all over the couch and floor.  She tossed off her work clothes, exchanging them for pajamas from the floor.  Sitting down gingerly in an empty seat, she opened her Chinese food to discover that they had forgotten the fortune cookies.  This was surely a bad sign.  She tried to flip on the TV, and *pop!* The screen was fuzzy, then blank.  It must be that winter storm moving in from the north.  Liz sighed and reached for a box of lo mein.  She was truly alone in the world, and suddenly it struck her: she had turned into one of those pathetic people who had Christmas alone.  _You’re only alone on Christmas Eve if you don’t have any friends_, she thought.  There was no one to call, no where to go.  Sitting the rest of the lo mein on the tables, she snuggled into the couch and went to sleep.

 

*****

Around midnight, Liz woke to a loud banging on the door.  “I didn’t do it,” she mumbled, retying her bathrobe and going to see what it was.  _Maybe it was Tracey, playing some practical joke—or Jack.  As if Jack didn’t bother her enough during the week_.  To Liz’s surprise, it was a slightly disheveled Pete, cheap champagne in one hand and Ho-Hos in another.

“Hi, Pete—what are you doing here?”

“My wife left me.”  He wandered past Liz into the living room and sat his offerings down by the Chinese food boxes.

“Oh, Pete, I’m so sorry,” said Liz.  “But she’ll be back, right?  She always comes back.”

He grimaced and flopped on his back onto her clothes pile.  “Not this time.  I figured…maybe…”

“Of course you can stay here,” Liz replied, sitting next to him.  “Hey, and you even brought dessert!  How do you always know what I want?” She bit happily into a pre-packaged pastry.

“Heh,” Pete said, “Now if I had always known what _she_ had wanted.”

“Yeah…”  Liz curled up against Pete’s stomach, champagne bottle in hand.  “Well, hey, at least you made my Christmas better.  I was starting to feel like…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Like you were always alone?” he finished for her.  Then, he did something strange—he wrapped his arm around Liz’s waist.  “You should know better than that.  You’re never alone.”  He pulled her down on top of him, sloshing the champagne.

“Pete, uh…” Liz had already consumed a large amount of the alcohol, and everything seemed a little strange.  “Why…what…?”

“Shhhh,” said Pete, and then he kissed her.

Liz struggled at first, but then relaxed into the kiss.  It had been along time since she had kissed anyone, let alone anyone who knew her taste in sugary desserts.  It was kind of nice.

“We shouldn’t…” she said at last.

“We shouldn’t _what_,” he said.  His voice was dark and rough.  He was no longer Pete, dependable-yet-goofy colleague.  He was Pete, one of her best friends, and one who was looking increasingly attractive under the influence of the champagne.  Slowly, gently, she kissed him again, a kiss that didn’t break for a long time.

One by one, their articles of clothing began to join the piles of Liz’s laundry on the floor.  They rolled around in this improvised bed, touching and feeling and tasting, desperate but gentle.  Soon, all of their clothes were on the floor, and Liz was lying on her back in the middle of them, Pete hovering above her.

“You sure you want to do this?”  Liz asked.  Her glasses were askew, but she was sure that Pete smiled.

“If you want to,” he replied.

“Yes, please,” she answered, blushing.  He entered her slowly—considerately, she thought—and started moving.  It was odd, at first, to have this feeling and see Pete’s face above her at the same time.  “You know, Pete…”

“Shhhh,” he said.

“I’ll be quiet.  I just wanted to tell you that I always…”

Just at that moment, they heard voices out in the hallway.  “Somebody’s coming back _really_ late from a party,” commented Pete.

“I don’t know who,” replied Liz.  “I thought everyone on my floor had left.”  Then, the voices became surprisingly familiar.

“This door!” A female voice said, and then Liz’s door was pushed open.  “Merry Christmas, Liz!” Jenna shouted to the messy apartment.  Pete and Liz scrambled for their clothes, but Jenna was too quick.  “So you never have to be a—“ She gasped, and started laughing.

“What’s that?”  asked Kenneth.  “Heavens!” he said, seeing his two naked colleagues.

Tracey walked in last.  “I told you to go for it,” he said to Pete.  “Merry Christmas, Liz Lemon!”


End file.
